


Unmalevolent

by iLurked



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy AU, Knights and Dragons AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iLurked/pseuds/iLurked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grant, a knight-in-tarnished-armour, was given the order to kill a dragon. All went downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unmalevolent

**Author's Note:**

> For #wssummer week 3  
> Prompt: Fantasy

How did one fight a dragon? 

Grant pondered the question for the thousandth time since King Philip gave him the order to slay one for the Kingdom.

That the order to slay the dragon was given to him should have been a huge honour, only it was not. Everyone knew it was a suicide mission, one given to Grant because he was expendable. The Kingdom could afford for him to die because he was just one of many knights. He was also a knight without family or connections. No one would miss him when he was gone. Worse, his armour was deeply tarnished, the effect of having chosen to trust and to blindly follow his Lord Garrett, who turned out to be a coward of the highest order.

Therefore, when the King gave the order to bring back the heart of the dragon as he believed that it was released by his old nemesis to destroy the Kingdom, the burden to follow said order fell on Grant.

There was a story in there somewhere. 

When Grant was a child, he heard of the Sorcerer who killed King Philip and cursed King Philip’s daughter to death, all because he was not invited to the ball celebrating the young Princess Skye’s adoption into the royal family. Fortunately, King Philip was brought back to life thanks to a little magic and the quick thinking of the Duchess of May. Unfortunately, the curse against Princess Skye was merely tempered to a deep sleep which remained unbroken for sixteen years. Unbroken, that is, until a few days ago when young Prince Leopold arrived at the Kingdom aboard his ship.

Therefore, it was believed that it was no coincidence that a day after the curse was broken, a golden dragon soared up at the heavens, breathing fire. Everyone concluded that the Sorcerer was enraged at having his scheme thwarted and was now seeking revenge by unleashing his pet dragon upon the Kingdom.

Curiously, the dragon showed no signs of aggression; it did not even attempt to get close to the castle, but King Philip did not want to wait for an attack. He decreed that both the dragon and the Sorcerer must die, for the protection of the Kingdom and of Princess Skye.

Thanks to the powerful Duchess, they quickly located the dragon in the heart of the Mystical Forest: that one place that was off limits to humans, being the Sorcerer’s lair. For sixteen years, few humans could cross the border to the Mystical Forest, and those that did were unable to return.

This made a full-frontal assault impossible: they tried that in the past in the hopes that killing the Sorcerer would break the curse. Not only were they unable to breach the invisible wall that separated King Philip’s Kingdom from the Sorcerer's, a battalion of knights lost their lives that day as the very trees, rocks, and mountains, not to mention all magical beings, took up arms to protect the border.

That left a single, swift attack; an attack Grant was eerily suited for.

As an orphaned child who was eking out a living by doing odd errands and stealing, Grant had the ability to enter the Mystical Forest and come out unscathed. He never knew anyone else who had the same ability, that is, until he met Skye.

Now, his ability to enter the Mystical Forest made him uniquely qualified to kill, or at the very least find, the dragon and maybe save the Kingdom.

Upon crossing the border of the Mystical Forest, Grant moved swiftly. He did not even take the time to check the magical amulet that served as a map to the dragon’s whereabouts. He knew where it was: at the brook frequented by mischievous imps who, years ago, took pity on a young and undernourished Grant enough to share their food with him.

When he neared the babbling brook, he slowed down and hid himself behind a large fern for reconnaissance.

Therein lied the golden dragon.

At Grant’s first look at the beast, he was mesmerised.

She was a beauty: long, lithe, sinewy body covered with golden scales, with huge wings made of dark nightmare paired with sharp talons. Her head was dominated by wise hazel eyes which were countered with a huge, grinning mouth filled with wicked teeth.

Grant took deep breaths to stabilise his rapidly beating heart.

No time like the present.

Unleashing his sword from its scabbard, Grant let out a yell before running towards the dragon, running towards certain doom.

And that was the last thing Grant remembered before he blacked out.

…

When Grant came to, his eyes opened to the face of a stranger whose beauty was almost ethereal. The sun was shining its rays through her hair, making it a golden halo that framed her face. Concerned hazel eyes looked down at him, and a soft hand cupped his face.

It was the first time Grant felt someone worry for him in a long while.

“There you are.” A soft, lilting voice breathed.

When Grant felt himself capable of motion, the first thing he did was to capture the soft hand touching his face with his rough-worn one.

She smiled down at him.

“Where,” he groaned out. “Where am I?”

“I brought you to the castle,” she said. “You are a knight here, yes?”

True enough, when he looked around, they were in the castle’s courtyard. He was lying on the stone ground with the woman kneeling down at his side.

“What happened?” He asked.

Her face crumpled in guilt. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I was playing with the imps, and then you yelled, and then my tail just reacted and hit you and then you were flying and then you hit a rock!”

“What?” That did not make any sense.

“I just learned how to turn into a dragon.” She continued, “I still don’t have complete control of all my limbs. Have you ever tried moving wings and tail? I never had those before, so I may have been a tad clumsy.”

“You?” Ward’s eyes widened. “You’re the dragon?”

Jemma beamed proudly and nodded.

Grant could not help but smile back at her.

Before he could ask anything else, however, he was interrupted by a loud shout demanding, “Stand down!”

Soon enough, Grant found himself and the woman beside him surrounded by his fellow knights.

Grant tried to stand, to explain that the woman meant no harm and that she was the one who saved him, but he could not. In fact, he did not know how he came to the castle and who the woman was.

Calmly, the woman released her hold on Grant and stood up.

Then, the knights parted to give way to the royal party: King Philip, the Duchess of May, Prince Leopold, and—

“Grant!” Princess Skye cried out as she tried to break through her wall of protectors in an attempt to get closer to the man who protected her when they were younger.

It was funny how things turned out. Who would have thought the plucky little girl Grant took under his wing when they were both children would one day become the princess? Grant was happy for her, but also melancholy because he was no longer the one she turned to for protection. She had her father, the King himself, for that, not to mention an entire army of knights willing to sacrifice their lives for her. And now, there was the brave Prince Leopold who crossed the turbulent seas because he had an idea of how the curse could be broken.

Grant help up a hand, a signal to the princess that he was alright, and struggled to get up.

After his mistake with Lord Garrett, Grant did not want Princess Skye to be associated with him, afraid that he would taint the wonderful life she had built for herself.

“Who are you?” King Philip demanded of the woman beside Grant.

The woman sank into a graceful curtsy. “Jemma of the Mystical Forest.”

There were more than a few stifled gasps. If she was of the Mystical Forest, then that made her a magical being under the authority and protection of the Sorcerer.

“Jemma?” It was Prince Leopold, wearing the most perplexed expression on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Leo!” Jemma beamed at him. “Did you do it? Did you break the curse? I told you you could do it!”

“You know I don’t believe in curses,” the prince replied indignantly. “I saved Princess Skye through science.”

“You know each other?” King Philip asked mildly, but his eyes showed that he was beginning to have doubts about letting his daughter marry the prince who saved her.

“Yes!” Jemma exclaimed happily before noticing Grant’s struggle to get up. Crouching down gracelessly, she took one of Grant’s arm and pulled him up. “Leo lives in a land of magic and fairies, your highness. Of course, we’d meet somehow.”

"When we were younger, we used to play together all the time near the lochs." Leo added.

“There you are!” In a puff of smoke, the Sorcerer himself appeared in their midst: his two huge golden horns that curled back atop his head gleaming for all to see. “You were supposed to be in training ten minutes ago!”

“Fairy godfather!” The woman, this Jemma, cried out in delight, as if by appearing, the Sorcerer had made everything alright. To the parties’ surprise, Jemma even went one step further and enveloped the evil Sorcerer in a hug.

“Don’t call me that!” The Sorcerer snapped, sotto voce.

“Loki!” The King drew out his sword and pulled back Princess Skye behind him. Then, to his soldiers, “Take him!”

“Not today.” Before anyone of the soldiers could move, Loki the Sorcerer waved his hand.

Grant felt invisible ropes coil themselves around his body and immediately lost the ability to move. He was about to panic when he realised that like him, everyone else, except for Loki the Sorcerer and Jemma, were frozen.

Jemma tugged on Loki’s sleeves. “Invite them for tea.” She whispered in a voice everybody could hear.

“We’re evil, my dear. We don’t invite people over for tea. We destroy their lives then the two of us sit down for tea.”

“Maybe that’s why people don’t want to drink tea with us.” Jemma pouted.

“We will discuss this later.” Loki told her, waving his hand yet again.

In a blink of an eye, Grant found himself in what appeared to be a dark dungeon, if the stone walls and the barred doors were anything to go by. The ropes that wound themselves around his body was removed enabling him to finally move, but that seemed to be the only good news for him.

Beside him stood King Philip.

“Your highness?” Grant asked. “Are you alright? Can you move now?”

“Yes.” Came the short reply. “But I was disarmed. Be ready for anything.”

But only a frustrated sound floated towards them, followed by Jemma’s irate voice saying, “This is no place for guests, fairy godfather.”

Then, in the next breath, Grant found himself sitting on a table with the King, the Sorcerer, and Jemma. Four dainty teacups and a steaming pot of tea sat on the table between them. They were in a bright, homey room, with fire happily cracking in a corner, enveloping them in cheery warmth.

“There,” Jemma beamed. “Isn’t this much better?”

“The power of hell hers to command,” Loki grumbled in exasperation. “And all she wants is to have tea with guests.”

Jemma hummed happily as she poured tea for everyone. 

“What is this about, Loki?” King Philip demanded.

“This is simply serendipity. I came looking for my wayward protégé.” Loki replied. “That you were there for the taking was a bonus. I didn't even know you were still alive.”

“What do you mean you were just looking for your protégé?” King Philip demanded. “You’re telling me that you were not keeping tabs on us? You want to tell me you were unaware that your curse against my daughter had recently been lifted? Sixteen years of looking over my shoulder, all for nothing?”

“With the number of curses I gave out and the enemies I make on a daily basis, do you think I’d have time to keep track of all of them?” Loki asked, unconcerned.

The King, incensed beyond reason, stood up and overturned the table before leaping up to attack Loki, who started laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh,” Jemma’s face dropped at having her tea interrupted. This kind of incident might have happened to her in the past because she immediately brightened. “I have an idea!”

Within the snap of her fingers, Grant found himself once again swept off to another location: the babbling brook in the middle of the Mystical Forest. Bonus, the King and the Sorcerer were nowhere to be found.

“We sort of met on the wrong foot,” Jemma smiled, kicking off her sandals to dip them at the brook. “Care to start over again?”

Just like that, Grant felt all his problems melting away, because how could he worry about anything else, surrounded as he was by all these wondrous things?

“Sure.” He told her solemnly. “My name is Grant. I am a knight, or at least I used to be one. Now I don’t know what I am.”

“Jemma of the Mystical Forest.” She replied, just as solemnly. “Protégé of Loki the Sorcerer.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” She smiled at him. “And maybe while you’re trying to figure out what you want to do next, maybe you’d want to stay here. With me.”

Again, Grant could not help but smile back. “Thank you. I might take you up you offer.”

Jemma laughed, and all Grant could do was think that this may be the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

(Although if he was truly honest to himself, he wished for more than that. But for right now, a friendship sounded just about right.)


End file.
